Many years later, the smile on the young man's lips still lingers in his mind. It always reminds me of that sultry summer and my favorite genius swordsman. I will think of the unnoticeable loneliness in his eyes, the chirping of cicadas that once hit my ears, the sleepy eyes when he left, and the falling cherry blossoms that danced that year when he left this world. From then on, the flowers bloomed and fell, year after year.
(Originally, I wanted to write a serious history, but after sorting out some of the plots, I was destined to make them into fictions. Please feel free to comment.)
Purpose: To fulfill a dream I had when I was seventeen years old